


My Mirror, My Sword and Shield

by BitchKuroo



Series: That was when we ruled the world [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Kageyama Tobio, Autistic Kunimi Akira, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kagehina (mentioned), M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, because I said so, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitchKuroo/pseuds/BitchKuroo
Summary: Kunimi had never been particularly blessed when it came to emotional intelligence.kageyama was similarly flawed.AKATwo boys fall in love in middle school and it takes 13 years, two falling outs, and a public scandal for them to gain the courage to confess.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira
Series: That was when we ruled the world [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871140
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	My Mirror, My Sword and Shield

**Author's Note:**

> I edited this entirely at 12 am, so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> I wrote both Kunimi and Kageyama as autistic because I'm autistic and these characters mean a lot to me, so I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea.

Kunimi had never been particularly blessed when it came to emotional intelligence. He was quiet and sarcastic, and he often walked the line between blunt and mean. He found it hard to make friends, and even harder to keep them. In short, he was lonely and scared. Scared of change, of people, of being lonely.

Kageyama was similarly flawed. He was also quiet, and he had a temper. He didn't like accepting that people could care about him, and he thought that he could manage everything on his own. He was also lonely and scared. Scared of change, of people, of being alone.

For a while, the only people they could rely on were each other. They understood each other, and they were fine with it only being them for most of middle school. They had Kindaichi as well, but if you asked either Kunimi or Kageyama who their best friend was, they'd say each other.

Everything was going so well for them, until it wasn't.

They were happy, until they weren't.

Because change is inevitable, whether you were scared of it or not.

This is where 'Kunimi and Kageyama' became 'Kunimi' and 'Kageyama'.

It’s also where this love story begins.

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

High school wasn't as stagnant as middle school. Everyday something changed. Opinions were like the tides, constantly rising and falling based on the position of the moon, and Kageyama was a piece of driftwood, dragged around on the whim of the currents.

He got on well with his teammates, but that didn't stop him feeling like an outcast. Everyone around him was so outgoing, with the exception of Tsukishima, that he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't needed. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about Kunimi, and how comfortable he seemed at Seijoh. He'd grown into his skin, and he seemed more confident than ever. There was a twinge of longing in his stomach when Kageyama thought about how he wished he'd made Kunimi feel like that while they were friends. Kunimi had done it for him, but he had failed to do the same for him.

Kunimi wasn't alone any more, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, because it had always been him and Kageyama against everything, and now he had other people around him that cared about him, but that also meant more people to disappoint or upset. Kageyama had understood that he didn't always engage his filter because he had a similar problem. They didn't understand people, but they understood each other, and at the time that was all that really mattered, so they never bothered to try and learn how they were supposed to interact with people outside of their little bubble of understanding.

When he saw Kageyama through the net, on the opposite side of the court instead of next to him, he couldn't help but notice how well he seemed to blend in with others, how he was appreciated, even when his temper flared. Kunimi also couldn't help but notice that he seemed freer, freer than he ever had in middle school. He found himself wishing that he was the cause of Kageyama's ease. Kageyama had made him so comfortable in the three years of their friendship, and yet, he'd failed to do the same for him.

Neither knew how much the other was struggling, how much both of them longed for some of that easy understanding that had been the foundation for their friendship. That kind of comfort only happened so often, and both Kunimi and Kageyama knew they'd found something special in the quiet moments they'd spent together, but they'd messed it up, and it was over now.

Right?

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

The next few years was a mess of missed opportunities and awkward small talk when they did manage to run into each other. Kunimi moved to Tokyo for university after high school, while Kageyama stayed in Sendai after being signed for the Schweiden Adlers. Both had secretly been hoping they'd be in the same environment for once. One of the appeals of Tokyo was the amount of division 1 volleyball teams it homed, but of course that had to be the year a Sendai based team won the league. One of the appeals of Sendai was the university and the lack of crowds, but of course that had to be the year that Kunimi decided that he didn't mind crowded, loud places after all.

They ran into each other every time the Adlers had to play in Tokyo, Kunimi dragging himself away from his school work and the comforting silence of his room, to watch Kageyama steal everyone's attention with his gorgeous sets and the confidence he showed when he was truly in his element. Kunimi was glad that never changed, the way that Kageyama shone when a volleyball was placed in his hands. Kunimi was also glad that his appreciation could be out in the open without being scrutinised and torn apart by judging eyes, silently questioning whether the intentions behind his appraising gaze were pure enough for society to deem acceptable. Here, everyone was allowed to be open with their awe, because there was no way to watch Kageyama play and not be awed. Kunimi would've likened it to a religious experience if he was the type to buy into stuff like that.

Kageyama played his best whenever he spotted Kunimi amongst the crowds of supporters, gaze settled firmly on him. The other members of his team joked that Kageyama had a good luck charm in Tokyo, something that improved his play. He went along with it because he didn't know how to put his relationship with Kunimi into words. It was beyond explaining. He wanted to impress him, to have him look at him the way he did when they first met in middle school and Kageyama set to him for the first time. Kageyama didn't buy into fantasies, but if he did, if he was more optimistic, he might label them as soulmates. But he didn't, so for now, all he could do was let Kunimi's gaze warm him from the stands and promise to never do anything that drives that gaze away from him again.

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Kunimi watched the Jackals vs Adlers game, because he couldn't miss the opportunity to see the look on Kageyama's old teammates face when they saw how much he'd grown, how sure of himself he'd become, the way he can smile without it being tainted by the sadness in his eyes that was so present through most of high school. Kunimi still didn't know how to act around him, or what they were to each other, but that was ok. Kageyama was a mystery to him, and he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he was still blessed with the knowledge his middle school self possessed, when those eyes told entire stories for him to read and held the secrets to the cosmos for him to explore. Kageyama used to be his favourite story, a tale he had memorised from hours of pouring over every detail. Now, it was as if Kunimi had picked the book up only to find pages missing and the words in a language he didn't understand.

They had recently started speaking again, when Kunimi had found himself waiting by the Adler's bus for a moment alone with Kageyama. Things were awkward between them, their conversations mainly consisting of Kageyama asking if Kunimi would be coming to an upcoming match. Kunimi took whatever he could, filling the hole their separation had left in his heart with short text conversations and uncomfortable small talk.

The Kageyama in front of him was so different from the scared boy he used to be, and Kunimi knows he's found his place in the world, a place where people accept him wholly and completely without question. Kunimi wasn't sure whether there was a place for him in this world, but god, did Kunimi want there to be. He longed to be allowed to sit at Kageyama's side, to rebuild their bubble of understanding. Kunimi couldn't pretend this was simply a craving for things to be how they were before anymore. This had spiralled into something worlds out of his control and Kunimi hated it. He hated not being in control, and he hated change, and this changed everything.

How could he look Kageyama in the eye, knowing that he'd been in love with him this entire time?

How could he look himself in the eye, knowing that he'd been lying to himself for years?

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Kageyama wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. He had everything he'd wanted since he first picked up a volleyball, yet there was an ache in his chest that screamed at him that he was missing something. There was something his brain and heart longed for, with every fibre of his soul and every cell in his body, that he was blissfully unaware of. The aching stopped whenever he caught the reverence painted across every inch of Kunimi's face, almost biblical in nature, when he thought he wasn't looking, but Kageyama always was. He'd never stopped looking at Kunimi. Kageyama wasn't sure he was ready to face the truth behind his actions, whether he wanted to analyse what ten years of staring and wishing actually meant. He'd just gotten Kunimi back, and he refused to lose him again, not after years of praying for his return to his side. Kageyama was good at staying quiet, at pretending everything was fine for the benefit of those around him, it was almost second nature at this point, as sad as that seemed.

Kageyama was dense, but he wasn't so dense that he didn't realise what this meant.

He just refused to lose Kunimi again, especially over something as uncertain as love.

//\\\//\\\///\\\///\\\//\\\//\\\

The day Kageyama was outed by the media wasn't fun for anyone involved, and for once the cause wasn’t the torrential rain, but because not only was Kageyama affected, but so was the other person in the photo, who was none other than Hinata Shoyou. According to the article, Kageyama and Hinata had spent the other’s birthday together, getting a bit more drunk than those in the public eye perhaps should. The night had ended very abruptly when they kissed in a club, and were promptly parted by the flash of a phone camera.

Kunimi had tried to pretend the photo of Kageyama kissing Hinata hadn't caused an ugly monster to rear its head, jealousy swirling and raging inside of him as if he was trapped in the centre of a maelstrom, helpless against the strong beating of its winds.

Kunimi wasn't anything to Kageyama. They were acquaintances, maybe friends. Just because Kunimi was in love, hopelessly and helplessly in love, did not mean he got to act like a scorned lover.

Kindaichi had messaged him, asking if he'd seen the news, and then followed that statement by saying that he knew there was _something_ between the wonder duo in high school. Kunimi didn't have the stomach to answer him, and turned his phone off, deciding that his day off would be better spent crying over a pot of ice cream like some teenage girl experiencing her first heartbreak. Emotions had never been Kunimi's strong suit, and this whole mess was just more reason to never pay attention to them ever again.

The incessant knocking on his apartment door dampened his already dour mood, and he had to stop himself cursing out the person on the other side as he opened the door. He was glad he hadn't, because there was Kageyama, eyes red and puffy, shaking in a way Kunimi recognised from himself when there was too much going on around him to process, all of his senses firing off at once. He ushered him in, letting the door shut firmly behind them as Kageyama collapsed, right there in the middle of Kunimi's hall. Kunimi stood awkwardly behind him, knowing that Kageyama hated appearing weak in front of others, and that comforting him right now would only make things worse. Kageyama had come here because he knew Kunimi would understand and give him the space he needed. It had been like this in middle school, Kageyama tracking Kunimi down when he was upset, only letting himself cry when it was clear that the other wasn't judging him.

Obviously, Kageyama was looking for some of that ease after the day he’d had, so Kunimi let him cry and got to work making something for them to eat, ice cream going back into his freezer for now. There would be time for his own breakdown later, when Kageyama wasn’t sobbing and in desperate need of a listening ear and a dry set of clothes.

Kageyama didn't know why he'd come, only that after the media circus he needed to see him, to go to the one person who would hold no judgement towards him. Kunimi understood him, and he knew that he would be there for him if he ever needed him. He was the only one of his friends who had seen him cry from stress. When everything was getting to be too much for him to cope with and his brain started shutting down, Kunimi had been there to comfort him, awkwardly but appreciated none the less.

There was a hand on his back, and a cup was placed into a pair of shaky hands. He was guided to the sofa, a ratty, beat up thing permanently indented from a year of use and broken springs. Kunimi was next to him, scent warm and comforting in its familiarity. Kageyama leaned into him, and allowed himself to be held, letting all of the anxiety that had been bubbling under the surface spill over, safe in the knowledge that Kunimi would piece him back together when he eventually shattered.

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Kunimi had never wanted to strangle someone as much as he did now. Normally, Kindaichi’s presence would be a good distraction from the emotions wreaking havoc in his brain, but Kindaichi was gloating about the money he’d earned from Tsukishima from a bet about Kageyama and Hinata getting together. Kunimi wanted to scream at him, tell him that he was wrong, that they weren’t together, but it wasn’t his place and Kunimi didn’t want to answer the questions that Kindaichi would no doubt ask him as a response to his misplaced defensiveness.

Kageyama hadn’t spoken to him since his breakdown, and Kunimi had no idea where they stood, not that he’d had much of a clue before. it was obvious that Kageyama was embarrassed that he’d been seen in such an emotional state, but Kunimi wasn’t sure why. It’s not like he’d never seen him like that before. Kunimi had always been the one Kageyama went to when he needed to be told that he wasn’t weird for his small quirks and anxious habits. They’d been that person for each other, and now Kunimi couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that maybe Kageyama was uncomfortable being seen so openly emotional by someone who he wasn’t close with anymore. Hinata had probably become that person for Kageyama, had probably filled the spot Kunimi had left so nicely that Kageyama hadn’t even realised he was gone.

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Kageyama felt guilty when he caught Kunimi’s eyes after a game and ignored him, but it was for the best, he’d become too dependent on him, too demanding of his time when the other had a life of his own to live without Kageyama constantly dragging him into his storm.

He had to separate them, put the distance back into the relationship, no matter how much it would hurt, how hard he’d worked to close that very distance and how small the possibility that their relationship would recover from this was. He hated the idea that he might never see Kunimi again, but he needed to try and combat his feelings and distance was the only way he could think to do it. Kunimi deserved better than him, and he probably wouldn’t notice the space in his life Kageyama had carved out for himself suddenly being empty. Kunimi had so many people around him who cared about him. Kageyama knew he still spoke to the majority of the Seijoh team on a regular basis. It comforted Kageyama to know that Kunimi wouldn’t be alone after Kageyama left.

Kageyama knew he was weak when it came to Kunimi, so to make sure that he maintained the space he’d forced into their relationship, Kageyama took an offer to play pro in Italy, leaving his home, country and heart in Japan as he packed a bag and left for a country on the other side of the world.

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Tokyo 2021 was the first time Kunimi saw Kageyama since he’d up and left, effectively cutting off any contact between the two. Kunimi had texted him for the first two weeks, asking him how Italy was and if he had anything he wanted sent over from his apartment before Kunimi gave his spare key back to the landlord. After being left on read every time, Kunimi got the hint and stopped texting him. He doesn’t know what he did to upset him, but he isn’t sure he wants to find out, especially if it caused Kageyama distress. But, when he bought the ticket to watch the volleyball, he’d been sad and lonely and slightly too drunk to care about what it meant. It wasn’t as if Kunimi hadn’t been trying to watch clips from every one of Kageyama’s league games, it was just that seeing it live in person was something else entirely.

Kunimi had forgotten that watching Kageyama play meant seeing Kageyama in person, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. The distance had only made him realise that his feelings weren’t going away any time soon. He knew that as soon as he saw Kageyama take his place on the court, he’d fall in love all over again. He’d always been transfixed with Kageyama’s playing style, the effortless grace and confidence, the way he commands the court and the outcome of the game from the moment the first set begins to the moment the last ends. Everything he does carries such authority that Kunimi is sure that he’d be in love with him, regardless of any history between the two of them.

Kageyama was an enigma to him, a mystery people would be solving for years to come. There was no simple answer to the question “Who is Kageyama Tobio?” because there was so many ways to answer that question based on who’s being asked. A genius. A king. A protégé. A friend. Kageyama was everything and he was nothing, an entire universe and a speck of dust floating through space. 

For so many years, he was something of a mission, an unreachable goal. Kunimi was always behind him, staring, pining, reaching out only to just graze his fingertips against Kageyama’s back.

Now, he’s not even in sight. He’s off in Italy, living his dream as a professional volleyball player on a world class team, Kunimi nothing but a distant thought to him. 

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Every thought in Kageyama’s head surrounded one Kunimi Akira. While in Italy, he’d managed to push him from his brain nearly entirely, but as soon as he stepped foot off the plane at Tokyo airport, the thoughts and memories and dreams came crashing back in. One memory that stands out in particular is from middle school. It rained while they were walking home, and Kageyama knew that Kunimi wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t get out of the rain soon. It was obvious that Kunimi’s sensory issues had been playing up at practice, and the feel of water hitting his skin could be disastrous. Kageyama was having a good day, so he hadn’t thought anything about taking his hoodie off and handing it to Kunimi, a temporary solution for the journey home. The sleeves were too long for Kunimi, so they ended up covering his hands, and Kageyama only had one thought in his head when he saw it. Kunimi was cute. He was cute, and Kageyama wondered why he’d never noticed it before. Nothing came of that thought, because two weeks later, Kageyama was left alone on the court, and everything he’d worked so hard to build, and keep standing, came crumbling down around him.

Kageyama counted that as the last memory of ‘Kunimi and Kageyama’ before they became separate. It was last memory that wasn’t tainted by the rising tensions and anger. He just wished it hadn’t taken him 10+ years to figure out why he was so struck by the sight of Kunimi looking so soft. He just wished he was brave enough to voice the feelings that had been growing ever since he discovered a small boy, a boy who was the same as him, sitting alone.

When they’d met back up, Kageyama had been thrilled, but one breakdown was all it took to realise that he couldn’t go back to being the boy who relied on Kunimi for help, especially when Kunimi had his own problems, his own life. So Kageyama separated them again, put the distance between them and kept it there, even though it hurt to read Kunimi’s texts and not reply. Kunimi eventually stopped texting, and Kageyama hated that it hurt, hated that a part of him ached to reach out to the other, because that was what he’d wanted when he’d forced the distance between them.

So, when he saw Kunimi in the crowd, the same intensity in his eyes when he watched Kageyama that was present when he’d watched his games before he’d left, he felt the air in his lungs rush out of him. Kunimi was there. Kunimi was there, and he was watching him, and _he was there._

They hadn’t spoken for three years, but Kunimi had still come to support him. He was still watching him set with something unreadable on his face, an expression too close to awe for Kageyama to process. He’d never been perceptive off the court, never been good at seeing emotions on people’s faces, but there was no way else to describe the look on Kunimi’s face. It was raw, and beautiful, and perfect, and it was for Kageyama only. The gaze was directed at him, only him, and Kageyama wasn’t sure how to process the pure adoration in Kunimi’s face.

Had Kunimi always looked at him like that?

If so, why was Kageyama only noticing it now?

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

_Kageyama will be there._

The text was staring at Kunimi, mocking him. He knew Oikawa didn’t mean anything by it, no one knew about the tension between them. Oikawa was probably remembering that Kageyama put Kunimi at ease, that he was only person who could keep him together when it was loud. It was an olive branch, but to Kunimi it was a slap in the face. Kageyama wouldn’t want to see Kunimi, as much as Kunimi longed to reconnect. He had no way to refuse. Oikawa was observant by nature, and he’d immediately be suspicious if Kunimi turned down the offer after it was revealed that Kageyama would be attending. The fact that Kageyama had even agreed in the first place shocked Kunimi, but he figured that it wasn’t an agreement, it just wasn’t an outright refusal and Oikawa was going to drag him wherever they were meeting, ignoring whatever protests the other offered.

With a sigh, Kunimi replied.

_I’ll be there._

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

Kageyama regretted every choice that had led to that moment. He never should have gone pro. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here in this club, trying to avoid a drunk Oikawa and a sober Kunimi, who seemed to be just as uncomfortable as he was. Kunimi had squeezed into the corner of the room, knuckles white from where they were gripping his drink. Kageyama could tell that everything was becoming too much for him, because he recognised the disgust tinged panic decorating Kunimi’s face. He could feel the walls closing in on him, noise rising to an unbearable level. Every touch against his skin felt like he was being set on fire. He eyed the exit, seeing the crowd he’d have to get through to be able to breathe again. There was a touch on his wrist, but this one was different, this one was gentle, soothing. It was exactly what he needed, a thumb rubbing back and forth across his pulse. Only Kunimi knew how to calm him when he got like this, and a quick glance at the corner showed him the spot that Kunimi was occupying had been vacated.

Kunimi was pulling him along, shoving people away from their path as they made their way towards the exit. Iwaizumi spotted them leaving and nodded, letting them know he saw them and would tell Oikawa if he asked. As soon as the air hit Kageyama’s face, his breath came rushing back, and he was able to focus on something, head no longer screaming at him. Kunimi was still holding onto his wrist, but it seemed to be more for his own benefit now. The club had been bad for the both of them, so Kageyama was completely ok with Kunimi using him for comfort, because Kageyama had done the same with him multiple times before.

The thought of riding the subway when they were both like this was awful, so they climbed into a nearby taxi, Kageyama providing his card and Kunimi, his address. The ride was silent, both enjoying the quiet, not wanting to ruin what they had at this moment by delving into the last three years. At the moment, things were easy. Kageyama didn’t want to disrupt that ease by bringing up his three-year disappearance. He knew he had been wrong, but he’d never claimed to be to be rational when it came to Kunimi and their relationship, whatever they were to each other.

The journey was over way too soon for Kageyama’s taste, the two of them exiting as quietly as they’d entered. Kunimi’s apartment hadn’t changed, and the sight of Kunimi making tea while Kageyama waited on the sofa transported him to a certain rainy day three years ago, when Kageyama had broken down in his corridor and Kunimi had picked him up and pieced him back together, hands dutiful in their task. That was the final straw for Kageyama, the moment that he decided he could longer burden Kunimi with his problems. Kunimi had looked so sad when he arrived, but he’d pushed that down to help Kageyama and Kageyama hated himself for that. Kunimi was always the one that ignored his own problems because Kageyama needed his help, so Kageyama made that option impossible for him. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t wanted, but it worked. Kageyama wasn’t reliant on Kunimi to fix his problems anymore, and he hoped Kunimi could say the same.

There was the clunk of a cup being set down, and Kageyama looked up to see Kunimi watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. There was mug matching the one on the table in front of Kageyama in his hands, fingers tapping an unheard melody on it, a visible sign of his nerves.

“We should probably talk.”

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

“We should probably talk.”

Kunimi was trying so hard to seem unaffected, but his pulse had skyrocketed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Kageyama had to say, but he had to, because as painful as it might be, he needed closure. Kunimi wouldn’t be able to move forward if a part of him was still clinging desperately to the hope that Kageyama had cared about him as much as he cared about Kageyama this entire time. He needed to know that his hope had been baseless, that everything he thought he saw in Kageyama’s actions and expressions was just him projecting his feelings on to him. If he didn’t kill the feelings now, they’d kill him first.

Kageyama sighed, eyes shifting around the room nervously, as if he was desperately looking for a way to start the conversation.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“Tobio, please don’t drag this out.”

Kunimi hated pleading, hated how pathetic he sounded, but he just wanted this to be over. He couldn’t go on like this without knowing where he stood with Kageyama. There were too many uncertainties, and Kunimi wasn’t sure he’d be able to act like nothing was wrong if Kageyama was going to disappear again and ignore him for another 3 years.

He wasn’t sure their relationship would be able to be fixed if that happened again.

He needed this to be cleared up, and at this point, Kunimi was aware it would be uncomfortable for Kageyama. If there was one thing about Kageyama that would never change was his distaste for emotions, especially his own. Hell, it would be uncomfortable for Kunimi as well, but the conversation needed to be had. Neither of them were exactly good with their feelings, it came with being autistic, but Kageyama definitely took that to a whole new level. He avoided talking about his emotions like the plague. Kunimi would almost be impressed if it hadn’t caused so much confusion and uncertainty over the years.

“Sorry.”

Kageyama took a deep breath, allowing himself a moment to gather his thoughts, untangling them and piecing them together until he had a relatively concise answer for Kunimi.

“You want to know why I left without a word, don’t you?”

“It would be preferable, yes.”

So Kageyama explained. He spoke until he ran out words, pouring his heart into every single one as he apologised over and over, unable to look too long at Kunimi, afraid of the rejection that may be present in his eyes once he finished his piece. It was a mess of apologies and feelings and tears.

Kageyama hated crying, and he especially hated crying in front of others. It made him feel small and helpless, something he’d tried to avoid since he found out that he wasn’t wired the same as everyone else. Kunimi had seen him cry three times in his life, and each time he felt awful for forcing Kunimi to deal with him when Kunimi struggles with emotions just as much as he does. The first time was in their second year of middle school, when Kageyama’s granddad died and Kageyama found himself truly alone for the first time ever. The second was in their first year of high school, when Seijoh beat Karasuno in the interhigh prelims, and Kageyama, along with the rest of Karasuno, broke down in the middle of the court. The third was the most painful. It was after Kageyama was outed by the media. He’d spent the entire day dealing with calls and emails from his coach telling him that sponsors were backing out of brand deals and that if the team lost any more than they already had, he’d have no choice but to kick him off of it. His life was crumbling, and he had subconsciously sought out a pillar, the person who knew what he was going through, and how to help. Kunimi had done so much for him, and as repayment, Kageyama had left, cutting off contact with him for no reason other than him being afraid of the change in their relationship.

In an effort to protect their friendship from his feelings, Kageyama had nearly lost Kunimi altogether. The thought of losing Kunimi was more terrifying than the thought of another person seeing him cry, and he knew in that moment that he’d walk to the ends of the earth and further to keep Kunimi smiling at him the way he used to when he believed Kageyama wasn’t looking at him anymore.

A quiet sniffle cut him off, and he looked up to find Kunimi frantically trying to wipe his own tears away. Kageyama panicked, assuming he’d said something to upset Kunimi unknowingly. He opened his mouth to apologise again, words on the tip of his tongue, but Kunimi gripped his shirt and pulled him up, lips colliding painfully. The kiss tasted like tears and the beer Kunimi had drunk earlier, and they both had snot running down their face from where they’d been crying, but Kageyama wouldn’t change it for anything. It was perfect because it was Kunimi, and his lips were soft, and his hands were holding his face like he was something worth treasuring, gently and tender, something that was so foreign to him. Kageyama loved it, and he loved Kunimi.

God, did he love Kunimi.

They pulled apart, and there was so much adoration written across Kunimi’s face that Kageyama had, once again, found himself breathless in his wonder. Had Kunimi always looked at him like that?

The gaze made Kageyama feel important, made him feel loved and wanted.

He wanted to drown in that gaze, let it wash over him and warm him from the inside out.

Kageyama could finally breathe again, because Kunimi liked him back. Kunimi loved him and he loved Kunimi. Finally, everything was right in the world.


End file.
